


Why Don't You Say So

by supernaturaltimemachine



Series: it doesn't have to be good, it just has to exist [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anything For You, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Bisexual Edward Nygma, Boys Kissing, But I don't care, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack and Angst, Denial of Feelings, Ed (Gotham) In Denial, Ed being horny for 2.5k words, F/M, Fade to Black, Flirting, Holding Hands, Implied Sexual Content, Isabella (Gotham) Dies, M/M, Murder Husbands, Protective Oswald Cobblepot, Tea, Unhealthy Relationships, and that's pretty much the fic, and this just kinda happened, ed thinks oswald is sexy, implied comp-het, isabella is a boring gf, it's not gay to have a crush on your best friend, mild blood kink, non-enthusiastic consent, probably out of character, the death is isabella don't worry, the prompt was 'sexy'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25439308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturaltimemachine/pseuds/supernaturaltimemachine
Summary: Or, Five Times Ed Heard the Word 'Sexy' and One Time He Said It(Set in early season 3, vaguely canon compliant)_Title fromSay Soby Doja Cat
Relationships: Isabella/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: it doesn't have to be good, it just has to exist [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842595
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	Why Don't You Say So

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to blame my friend Lee for this. I asked for a one word prompt and the first thing they said was 'sexy' and when I came to this was completed in my google drive. 
> 
> Enjoy?

Ed smacked a hand over his face.

“You think I’m  _ what _ ?” Oswald gasped. 

“... I didn’t mean-” Ed pleaded, a blush spreading quickly across his cheeks.

Oswald’s face contorted into a gleeful expression.

“Well, I never,” he crowed, “The Edward Nygma thinks I’m  _ sexy _ !”

“Shut up,” Ed muttered, trying to keep the smirk away from his lips. Oswald had been getting suits tailored in anticipation for his acceptance speech and Ed was helping as usual. The descriptor had just tumbled from his lips.

It wasn’t a  _ lie _ , per se, though Ed had never actively thought of a man as attractive in that way before. 

Oswald looked regal. He looked elegant. His suit hugged his frame in a way that commanded attention. The glint in his eyes and the way his hair fell struck a welcome fear into Edward’s heart. When the other man asked how he looked Ed had just used the first adjective that came to mind. 

Oswald threw a playful wink at Ed before sliding back into the fitting room. Ed tried to ignore the burning sensation enveloping his body as he turned to examine the fabrics surrounding him.

* * *

They had been having dinner at The Siren’s on a night off. Barbara had joined their table early in the evening. She and Oswald started chatting about nonsense he didn’t understand nearly immediately, leaving him feeling like a bit of a third wheel. He excused himself and decided to make himself useful by procuring margaritas for the table. When he came back Oswald grinned widely at him.

“Very sexy of you, Ed, thanks,” the Penguin commented as he took one of the drinks, earning a tinkling laugh from the blonde to his right. 

Ed felt his ears go hot. He stood there for a moment before reclaiming whatever shreds of his dignity he had left and sitting back down across from the other man. The gossipy conversation soon resumed and Ed resorted to reciting formulas in his head. He almost didn’t notice every time Barbara’s gaze flitted knowingly across his face.

* * *

He’d been doing a crossword during breakfast when it hit again. 

“16 ACROSS- Erotic, stimulating”

He glanced away guiltily, only to see his best friend licking the syrup off of his fork obscenely. 

Ed excused himself from the table and found himself in front of the bathroom mirror. His reflection looked the same, though a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered,

_ “There’s nothing wrong with a little  _ attraction _ between friends.” _

Ed splashed ice cold water on his face and exited the room. 

When he got back to the dining room, Olga was clearing the plates. Ed thanked her as he slipped his newspaper from the table. When he finally got back to his puzzle there was an answer written in a dark blue pen. 

Ed groaned.

“Sexy,” Oswald’s familiar script cackled.

* * *

Isabella was a lovely woman. She was compatible with Ed in all the ways a girlfriend should be. 

The longer they dated, however, the more Ed dwelled upon what else she was. 

She was passive. Isabella never challenged him on anything. Talking to her was like talking to himself, which was not something he needed more practice doing. She wasn’t pushy or demanding and she always let him get his way, which, he rationalized, was helpful but was ultimately boring.

She was predictable. Her job kept her hours the same day after day, and when she was free she adhered to a strict schedule. Movies and board games on Wednesday nights, a walk in the park on Fridays, and if she had Saturday off she’d expect a trip to the Gotham Museum of Art, which was fun the first time but she insisted on seeing the same pieces over and over and there are only so many ways to look at the same Degas. 

She was cheap. While Ed had found this endearing at first, he found himself getting more and more frustrated with her miserly habits. Even when she agreed to let him take them out to eat at one of his and Oswald’s favorite restaurants, she’d spend the whole night worrying over how much each dish would cost. She’d end up with a salad that she barely touched and Ed would end up with a bitter attitude and guilty conscience. 

She was conventionally attractive. Indeed it had been her looks that attracted Ed to her in the first place, but there was something so bland about them. Her shapeless turtlenecks and floor length skirts left everything to the imagination in the least evocative way. He found himself wishing she’d wear darker eyeliner or dye her hair just to change things up, though he’d never dare suggest it out of fear that she’d do it out of obligation. The most exciting her wardrobe ever got was when she wore one of Ed’s suit jackets out of a chilly theater. It made her look, for a moment, like she could be dangerous. Ed found himself thinking of that outfit for weeks after, though from then on she’d always made an effort to bring her own coat to functions like that.

Ed became more and more distracted the more time they spent together. He tried spending more time at the manor and City Hall, but she would always come in and interrupt him, waxing poetic about how much she missed her true love. It wasn’t his  _ fault _ he kept ignoring her, but Isabella was just so utterly  _ forgettable _ that he’d find his mind wandering toward work instead. It was easier to think about Oswald’s schedule and the political goings on in Gotham than it was to listen to her talk about her obsession with dogs. 

One such night she had been telling him some sob story about her day and his mind made the familiar detour to anything else. This time it was a memory about Penguin dispatching a particularly unruly goon a few days prior. It had been inspiring to watch the indifferent expression on his face as the life drained from the other man’s form. Pure art. Ed smiled to himself. To think, he was working side by side with such a force of nature. 

“Ed? Are you listening to me?”

“What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I was thinking about work.”

“Sounds like you need a break.” She began slinking toward him. He’d never seen her move like that before.

“I bought something new I thought might help us relax…” her voice trailed off in a way Ed assumed was supposed to be seductive. He nodded dispassionately. Whatever could help get this night over with.

She reached up to grab his tie. The pull was uncomfortable. She placed her hands on his chest and reached for the buttons on his shirt. Her eyes met his and they lost all their heat.

“Are you good?” she whispered self consciously. “Is this sexy?”

The honest answer would have been no, but she had tried so hard that all Ed felt was pity. He responded the only way he could think how: a searing kiss.

Ed instinctively pushed her against the wall and tried to lose himself in her scent, but he felt his mind wandering again. As they fell into her plush bed, the image behind his eyelids was once again that of a bored looking Oswald Cobblepot as blood gushed from a body at his feet.

* * *

A few weeks later Edward came to a consensus. 

It was time for him and Isabella to break up. 

Oswald suggested being brutal and to the point. 

“Honesty is the best policy, Edward.”

Ed had given him a coy look.

“You sure about that  _ Mr. Penguin _ ?” 

Oswald froze for a moment, his cool demeanor slipping from his face before he quickly pulled it back on.

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

They shared a chuckle and Ed reassured the other man that he wasn’t planning on borrowing from the mobster playbook that night. 

Later, he wished he would have.

Ed had never broken up with anyone before. It wasn’t his area of expertise. 

“Did you ever  _ want  _ me, Ed?”

The question caught him off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you think I-that I was-” Fat tears ran down the woman’s cheeks as she tried to enunciate her feelings. “Did you think I was sexy?”

Ed’s brain shifted into auto-pilot. Honesty was the best policy.

“No.”

The sobs came more quickly. 

“I- I mean I thought you were beautiful?”

They were louder now. 

Ed began to panic.

“Don’t feel bad! It’s nothing you did! If anything it’s my fault, I was the one at work all the time always distracted by my boss and you know what they say about affairs of the heart! And maybe-”

He was interrupted by a sharp slap across the face.

It stung.

“What-?”

“How dare you, Edward Nygma! You come into my life pretending to be the perfect man and then give me this? You’re pathetic! At least dump me with some dignity.” There was a malice on her voice that was familiar in all the worst ways. 

“I’m sorry?” 

He was more confused than anything. Isabella was supposed to be different. She had been different, and yet when the veil was stripped away she was just as cruel as everyone else.

“Get out,” she growled, danger prickling through her tone, wrist fidgeting.

Ed darted away before she could raise her hand again.

* * *

Ed drove back home in a painful silence, the pit in his stomach growing larger with each passing moment. The manor was silent by the time he arrived. He made his way quietly to his bathroom and stared morosely at his reflection. The man in the mirror smiled back. 

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here,” his reflection purred. “Might wanna get some ice on that cheek. Those long nails did some damage.”

Ed exhaled shakily, bracing his arms on the sides of the sink. He needed a cup of tea. 

“I can’t believe she would do that to us,” the other him muttered. He shook his head in pity. “I can’t believe we  _ let _ her.”

Ed met his reflection’s eyes. 

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” The other him raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were different now. Stronger. After all Oswald did to teach us how to take care of ourself.” He tutted in disappointment. “We don’t have to be pushed around like that anymore, Eddie.”

At Oswald’s name Ed’s attention shifted. Oswald would be able to help. 

He made his way to the other man’s door, knocking gently. 

Oswald opened the door almost immediately, nearly tipping the taller man over. He was in one of his father’s old robes and wore a pair of plush slippers on his feet. The gel had been washed from his hair and the foundation from his face, showing off his freckles. The sight alone was a comfort.

“How did it-” Oswald cut himself off as he assessed the man before him. “Oh  _ Eddie, _ ” he crooned, “What did she  _ do _ to you?”

Ed let out a shaky breath and all but fell into the other man’s arms. 

“Let’s get you into something more comfortable and you can tell me all about it.”

Ed soon found himself on their familiar couch in front of a fire Oswald had stoked back to life. He was wrapped in one of Oswald’s favorite robes and his best friend had just brought him a cup of steaming tea, and an ice pack for his bruising cheek. The knots in his stomach were all but unraveled, and as soon as Oswald was situated next to him on the couch he launched into the evening’s events.

It would be a lie to say he didn’t glean some sort of pleasure from the anger that seeped into Oswald’s features as the tale went on. By the time he was finished, the other man was practically shaking. 

“THAT ABSOLUTE, no offense Ed, BITCH!” he shouted, leaping up from the loveseat and shaking his fist. 

“None taken,” Ed replied, the ghost of a smile crossing his face at his friend’s reaction.

“If she thinks she can talk to you like that, let alone  _ touch you  _ like that, well, I have got some bad news for her and it starts and ends with the blade of my knife!” Oswald was pacing now, as well as he could at this time of night without his cane.

Ed snickered. He looked fondly at the kingpin in front of him and tilted his head in curiosity.

“You would do that for me?” The honesty of the question broke through Oswald’s rage. He sat back down on the couch and clasped Ed’s hand in his. The touch made Ed feel warmer than the fire and cup of tea combined.

“Edward, I have killed men for looking at me wrong. If you think for a _moment_ that I would let that _peon_ touch _my_ _dearest friend_ like that and live, I’m afraid you don’t know me very well.”

Ed felt a familiar blush work its way across his face. He was grateful for the ice pack clutched to his cheek.

Oswald let go of his hand and Ed immediately missed the contact. 

The Penguin gave him a fiendish grin. 

“Would you like to help?”

In the end they made quick work of her. Ed decided she didn’t deserve the dignity of being tortured, and Oswald agreed, citing her voice to be grating enough when she wasn’t screaming for mercy.

Ed had chuckled at that, realizing with a start how right the other man was. 

When they’d finished trussing up her body, (Oswald insisted on a knife to the throat but he let Ed knock her out first with a hit to the head from her favorite book) Ed took a moment to look at the scene before him.

Oswald Cobblepot was the truest friend he had ever had, and here he was, about to bleed Ed’s ex-girlfriend dry for him. It was almost romantic. Edward knew Isabella never would have done anything for him like this.

Ed gave the other man a nod and Oswald loosed his blade. Blood splattered across both of their faces. 

Ed’s brain nearly short circuited when he looked at the other man’s face. With the red across his pale features he looked god-like. Oswald Cobblepot, King of Gotham, bringer of justice and savior of one Edward Nygma.

The sight went straight to his gut.

“Oswald,” Ed croaked.

Oswald’s eyes still glittered with the thrill of a kill.

“Hmmm?”

Those sparkling eyes turned to Edward, piercing through to his soul.

“You look- you’re really-”

Ed felt his heartbeat in his throat.

“Sexy,” he breathed, closing the distance between them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed whatever that was. I'm making an effort to write and post more fics just for the sake of working on my writing, so if you have any prompts at all, please leave them in the comments or submit them to [my tumblr](https://lateral-org.tumblr.com/)! I'm also on twitter @/crowleys_hair. I've also got a [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/lateralorg) if you want to leave me a tip or would like to commission a one shot!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, kudos and comments greatly appreciated <3


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